


May I Try It?

by mohhmoo



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, This started out as a joke, and then it got really gay and im so soR RY, idk what this is honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:59:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4972621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mohhmoo/pseuds/mohhmoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Totsuka often switches from hobby to hobby, interest to new interest, style to new style. One day he decides that his new "style" is to become a super cool "gangster", and Mikoto can't stand it.</p><p>((Rated M for a small part towards the end??? ; a ; sort of??? ))</p>
            </blockquote>





	May I Try It?

**Author's Note:**

> this honest to god started out as a joke and then it just escalated and it got super gay and this is the gayest shit ive ever written in my life im gETTING EMBARASSED READING OVER IT AGAIN TO PROOFREAD IT IM SORRY PLEASE GO EASY ON ME IM SUCH A BABY OMG,,,

“... May I try it?” 

Mikoto stopped, his hand frozen in place with the cigarette in between his fingers hovering just in front of his lips, and he slowly turned his head to stare at Totsuka with the most fed up, unbelieving face of “are you fucking serious” he was capable of making.

“No.”

Totsuka pouted, making a childish face and sounding a small whine, he pressed, “Please?”

“No.”

“But whyyyyy, King?” His vassal whined and nudged his arm, trying to reach for the cigarette himself, and Mikoto swiftly moved his hand out of Totsuka’s reach, extending his arm out to the side, his vassal huffing in pseudo annoyance.

“Why not?” Totsuka pouted more. He really was a brat, Mikoto thought.

“It’s bad for you.”

“But you do it!”

“That’s different.”

“But how?!”

“You would cough up your own damn lungs.”

Totsuka furrowed his brows, probably in an attempt to make a face that said “oh please, I’m so tough I can totally handle it”, but read clearly as “shit, he can see right through me.” Mikoto knew that Totsuka’s “I can totally be tough and cool like Yata and King and every other random ass gangster around” phase wasn’t going to last long (or at least he hoped it wouldn’t) as many of his interests shifted rather quickly, but he could confirm with certainty that it was getting on his nerves, as incredibly amusing as the whole thing was sometimes.

It had started about two weeks prior to this conversation. Totsuka burst into the HOMRA bar going on about this supposedly amazing movie he had just seen about “really cool, tough gangsters who kicked ass” (Yata stopping him to laugh out “You’re literally in a gang, Totsuka”). For a few days he raved about it, going on about how he really particularly liked the style of the characters and urging everyone to go see it (no one did, until he forcibly sat them down and made them), and most of the members hanging around the bar would brush him off, Kusanagi indulging him sometimes and listening.  
At the time, Mikoto payed it no mind. It was another one of the kid’s phases. This was nothing new, and that’s what he thought.

Until a few days later.

Totsuka walked into the bar in the most ridiculous getup Mikoto had ever seen him in. Baggy pants, a grey sweatshirt hoodie, sunglasses and a beanie with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over it, and was that an eyebrow piercing? He couldn’t tell. The kid had balls, but not enough to get an actual piercing on his face.

Everyone in the bar stopped what they were doing in complete shock. This was the complete opposite of Totsuka usually very neat, simple attire.  
Before even Kusanagi could make a witty remark regarding Totsuka’s new look, Mikoto uttered the first words he had said all day, asking the question that had passed through everyone’s heads, “What the fuck?”

Totsuka smiled a bright, toothy smile, walking a bit too happily up to the bar counter where Mikoto sat perched on one of the stools, and Kusanagi was leaning on the counter from behind it, drying a wine glass with a towel. Totsuka plopped himself down onto the bar stool next to Mikoto, lowering his sunglasses and grinning at him over the brim.

“What do you think?” he asked, practically beaming.

Kusanagi opened his mouth and began to respond, “It’s certainly differe-“

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Mikoto promptly spoke over him, furrowing his brows.

 “This is my new style!” Totsuka stuck out his chest proudly.

Mikoto looked over his vassal, his eyes pausing briefly to make a note of how low Totsuka’s pants were on his waist.

 _Hn_.

He looked back up at Totsuka’s face with a grunt, “That’s fucking weird.”

“Haaa? King, how rude!” Totsuka pouted, “I have a style similar to Yamamoto now!”

Yata choked on a laugh at the other end of the room, accompanied by the voice of protest from Yamamoto, “Oi! Don’t copy me!”

“Take it off.” Mikoto said, without any hesitation.

“Eh?!”

“It’s weird. Take it off.” He repeated, reaching for Totsuka’s hood, only to be stopped by Kusanagi’s hand grabbing his arm and pulling it back.

“Leave it be.” Kusanagi chided, shooing Totsuka away from the bar away with his free hand, Mikoto quickly snatching the beanie off of his vassal’s head before Kusanagi could stop him. The newly established “gangster” made a half-hearted pout and wandered over to the couches at the center of the bar, sitting next to Anna and beginning to chat with the other members like he usually would.

“It’s just another one of his phases. You know it will pass.” Kusanagi spoke under his breath to Mikoto, who watched Totsuka show Anna all the rings he had on, taking off ones she particularly liked and placing them on her small fingers.

“It’s weird.” He grumbled.

“It is very different than what we’re used to seeing him wear,” Kusanagi laughed a sigh, “Give it about a week. He’ll be back to dressing the same way soon.”

-

Mikoto hated Totsuka’s new “style.” Mikoto knew that Totsuka knew it bothered him. It wasn’t that Mikoto hated the clothes, really, he just hated them on Totsuka. It was strange and unflattering for him, and Mikoto especially hated how hard it made it to see Totsuka’s face and hair. He hated the hat and hoodie the most, and every chance he could, Mikoto would knock the hood back and pull the beanie off of the blonde’s head. He would hold it out of Totsuka’s reach when he would whine in protest and try to grab it back, and instead lightly run his fingers through his vassal’s soft hair, which would stop him from trying to take it back.

Occasionally Totsuka would keep his hat off, instead gelling his hair back and out of his face, making it easier to see his eyebrow piercing, which, after some interrogation, he admitted was fake to Kusanagi (“but don’t tell Yata! He thinks it’s so cool!”) The first time Totsuka wore his hair like this, Mikoto stared at him for a good minute or so before promptly putting his hand into his hair and ruffling it up, brushing his bangs back down so they hung in his eyes again and framed his face.

Totsuka had his hair gelled back now, standing on the roof of the bar and leaning against the railing with Mikoto. They did this often, just to talk. Mostly Totsuka would do the talking and Mikoto wouldn’t say much, but he would listen attentively, no matter how ridiculous the topic. And it was there on the roof Totsuka pressed Mikoto to allow him to try smoking.

It was difficult for Mikoto to take him seriously like this. This kid had to be messing around. How much of an idiot was he? All for the sake of a “look”? After a few minutes of Totsuka prodding and whining, Mikoto rolled his eyes and held his hand out to his companion, reluctantly allowing him to take the cigarette from in between his fingers.

Totsuka gingerly took it between his thumb and index finger, grinning at it like he had won some prize. Cautiously he put the cigarette to his lips and took a very tentative inhale, immediately squeezing his eyes shut and struggling to hold back a cough. Mikoto almost laughed; he knew Totsuka wouldn’t be able to tolerate it. He reached back over and took the cigarette back from Totsuka’s lips, letting him cough and gasp for air.

“You’re an idiot.” He stated bluntly, continuing to look straight out over the edge of the roof as he lightly smacked his hand against the back of Totsuka’s head, tangling his fingers in his soft hair and pushing all that was gelled back forward into his face again.

Totsuka laughed after regaining his breath and smiled over at his king.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

-

After returning to the bar Mikoto went straight up to reside in his room for the rest of the evening. He hadn’t really planned to do anything but just sit and think and probably sleep; he hardly did much else, anyway.

Around the latter half of the night a light knock sounded on his door. Mikoto didn’t bother to respond; he knew who it was. Totsuka’s knocking pattern was distinctive, and he knew that he would enter whether Mikoto said he could or not.

The door creaked open, Totsuka slipping through with a plate in one hand, gently shutting the door behind him and placing the plate down on the small table beside Mikoto’s bed.

“I figured you probably wouldn’t come downstairs to eat, so I brought some up for whenever you want it before I leave for the night.” Totsuka often did this, since Mikoto usually never went downstairs to eat unless someone made him. If Anna wanted him to, maybe he would.

Totsuka smiled brightly at his king from across the room (Mikoto noticed just how long the sweatpants were on Totsuka. Now that he no longer had his shoes on, they practically covered his bare feet completely, only the tips of his toes poked out from under them) and padded over to where Mikoto sat, kneeling in front of his chair and grinning up at him. He had put that stupid hat back on now that his hair was no longer gelled back.

 _Annoying_.

Mikoto scanned over the man in front of him, squinting at everything he disliked. He had the sleeves of that hoodie pushed up to his elbows, which, Mikoto supposed, wasn’t so bad, but everything else he still couldn’t stand. Even after nearly three weeks it was continuously the weirdest thing he had seen Totsuka wear. He even had a feeling that Totsuka himself didn’t think it suited him, but kept the whole thing up just to mess with his king.

Mikoto reached out, pushing the hood off of Totsuka’s head and reached to pull his hat off too, but Totsuka leaned back out of arm’s length, laughing lightly at how displeased Mikoto’s expression became. Totsuka was playing with him and he knew it. This brat was getting on his every nerve.

Fed up, Mikoto grabbed Totsuka by the collar of his hoodie and crushed their lips together, Totsuka yelping in surprised before relaxing his shoulders and melting into the contact, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips.

Mikoto nipped at his vassal’s lower lip, not asking, but demanding entrance. Totsuka’s mouth opened without resistance, inviting Mikoto to take control, prodding around in his mouth with his tongue until he felt a sharp click against his teeth. No way. This kid got a fucking tongue piercing. This bullshit has gone too far.

Mikoto stood from his chair bringing Totsuka with him, their lips still connected as he not-so-sneakily wrapped his arm around Totsuka neck. He snaked his fingers up into Totsuka’s hair, hooking his index finger under the rim of the beanie he wore and yanked it off, discarding it onto the floor. He could feel Totsuka grinning against his mouth, probably trying not to laugh.

Thinking that, Mikoto felt a surge of annoyance and he backed Totsuka up until his legs hit the edge of his bed. The king shoved him back by his hands on his chest, sending him flying flat onto the mattress, Totsuka still grinning, his hair fanned out behind his head and sticking to the corners of his mouth and eyelashes.

Mikoto wasted no time; he was on a mission. He crawled onto the bed, straddling Totsuka and unzipping his stupid hoodie, quickly helping his vassal wiggle his arms free of the too-long sleeves. Underneath he had a white v neck T-shirt. It irked Mikoto that he didn’t know this; that suited Totsuka well.

The impatient king then set to work untying the draw string on Totsuka’s sweat pants, fumbling a bit in the rush and letting out a low, frustrated growl.

“Well aren’t you in a hurry,” a breathy laugh left Totsuka’s lips and Mikoto grunted. Totsuka looked at his king and knit his brows together… Then it hit him. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as Mikoto continued to rid him of his clothes.

“Do they really bother you that much?” He grinned through his laughter, trying to catch his breath as Mikoto helped him pull his shirt over his head, also to be discarded on the floor. Mikoto grunted again, his answer obvious, and continued to nip a trail down Totsuka’s neck.

“Mmm, maybe if they compel you to take them off of me so much I should wear them more ofte— _nnhg_ ,” his voice hitched as Mikoto bit down on his collar bone, glaring up at his vassal with annoyed eyes that read clearly, “shut the fuck up.” Totsuka laughed again; the extent of how much this bothered Mikoto was more than amusing to him.

“Brat.” Mikoto grumbled, hooking his hands around Totsuka’s waist and lifting his lower body to meet his, grinding his hips down and eliciting a pleased gasp from the man below him.

“How mean, King,” Totsuka faked a hurt expression, not being able to keep the grin off of his face for more than a few seconds.

“Shut up.” Mikoto’s voice was rough and irritated, but he felt nothing but endearment for this stupid kid.

“That could be— _hng_ ,” Totsuka’s voice was broken by pants and occasionally breathy laughter at how easily he lost control, “that could be difficult.”

“Yeah, because you’re so damn noisy.” Mikoto growled and bit down on Totsuka’s ear, sending a shiver through the other man’s body and making his back arch off of the mattress.

“King, please,” Totsuka twisted his fingers into the back of his king’s shirt urgently. Mikoto looked down at him for a moment, taking in his expression and emotions, before deciding to satisfy his pleas.

-

It was hours later, the room was pitch black and Mikoto had woken up again. He gently laid a still-sleeping Totsuka off to his side, pulling the bed covers over his shoulder and sliding himself off of the edge of the bed. He carefully shuffled around the room, feeling around and picking up what he recognized as the clothes he had rather hurriedly removed from Totsuka earlier, and throwing them into the back corner of his closet and burying them there to deal with later. He knew Totsuka wouldn’t try to look for them in the morning.

Satisfied with his work, Mikoto closed his closet door and wandered back over to his bed, carefully getting back under the covers, immediately to be embraced by the arms of his probably only half sleeping vassal.

-

Totsuka was a morning person. Sometimes Mikoto would wake up and Totsuka would still be lying in bed beside him, most likely awake but lying still with his eyes closed, and sometimes if the day (or night) before was particularly tiring, he would still be asleep. But most mornings after Totsuka stayed overnight he would wake up early and he would be downstairs, most likely in the kitchen with Anna either making their breakfast or cleaning up from it by the time Mikoto woke up and decided to leave his room. This morning was one of those mornings.

Mikoto woke up in the late morning, almost noon. He reached out and felt the empty space beside him—it was still warm, so it must not have been long since Totsuka had woken up. Unusual.

The king sat up and pulled his usual clothes on, groggily shuffling out of his room and down the stairs where he could hear the chatter of the HOMRA members echoing from the bar lounge. Entering the room he saw Totsuka happily having a very expressive conversation with Kusanagi, Anna sitting on the stool next to him, still admiring the rings he hand given her weeks ago.

Mikoto watched Totsuka, taking in what he looked like in the mid-day light filtering through the windows. His hair was more gold than it normally looked in that light. Mikoto’s eyes wandered down the curve of Totsuka’s neck down to the collar of his shirt that was draped just over his shoulder, nearly about to fall off like it was too big for him. Because it was too big for him. Mikoto’s heart clenched momentarily at this realization. Totsuka must have snagged one of Mikoto’s shirts and a pair of pants when he had woken up. The shirt was undeniably loose and almost long enough to be a dress on the smaller man, and the pajama pants he had slipped on were long enough that Totsuka had rolled the cuffs up so he wouldn’t trip. Even with the draw string tied, the waistband was hanging low on his hips.

_Again with the low hanging pants…_

Mikoto grunted when he noticed this, making Totsuka look up and over in his direction and notice him since he had entered the room.

“Ah! King! Good morning.” He smiled warmly and turned his attention towards Mikoto.

“I hope you don’t mind I borrowed some of your clothes—since I wasn’t originally planning to stay overnight I didn’t have an extra pair with me since you took the ones I had away aha—” Totsuka continued to talk as Mikoto approached him.

“I really should probably keep some extra clothes here since I stay so often… But Kusanagi is going to drive me home so I can change and then I’ll bring these ba—King?” he stopped mid-sentence as Mikoto grabbed him by the wrist, promptly turning around and pulling Totsuka from his seat and back up towards the stairs.

“King?” Totsuka laughed lightly in confusion as he stumbled to keep up with his king as he was pulled back towards Mikoto’s room.

Mikoto was on a mission. He needed to get those clothes off of Totsuka, but for a completely different reason.

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh i hope you enjoyed?? ; u ;/ !!!
> 
> ((ever wanna talk sometime or scream about mikototsu maybe //or haikyuu too// hmu http://mohhmoo.tumblr.com/ ))


End file.
